Yesterday was my baby day. I worked two jobs, and both ended up being very under-one-year centered, which of course is the last thing I mind. While Bug and mommy were at the museum and lunch, I got to play with Andrew (who took an unusually long nap anyway) and do the bottle and cereal routine. He's finally starting to learn the concept of bites, chewing, and swallowing. Sort of.
Then, I sat for a mom who had a doctor's appointment. V and I sat for her once or twice a week near the beginning of the year; she has three-year-old twin girls and was (very unexpectedly) pregnant with another girl. Her twins were born at 24 weeks, and are miracle children: they're still small, and have some medical issues, but both function just fine and are fairly normal. Needless to say, everyone wanted this baby to cook a little longer, and mommy had a cesarean at 39 weeks.
The little girl is now 6 weeks, and I got to spend two hours with her while her older sisters were napping (well, playing quietly in their rooms). Bottles and snuggles and three dirty diapers, and we both almost fell asleep together on the couch. I've missed the itty bitty babies. She's just so tiny.
Of course, that means that yesterday I got spit up on by both a six month old and a six week old.